


Out of the Box

by crisiskris



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Demons Made Them Do It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 12:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13434840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisiskris/pseuds/crisiskris
Summary: Giles inadvertently sets off a spell.





	Out of the Box

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the Slash Advent Calendar (2004) for December 20. 
> 
> Inspired by a hilarious MSN Messenger conversation with my then-beta reader, the lovely Gaak. Anybody remember MSN? Good times.

Rupert Giles was having a perfectly lovely dream.  It involved an unknown blonde person of indeterminate sex removing all his clothing and giving him a mind-numbing blow job.  In his dream, he wrapped his fingers in the soft, short hair, moaning and writhing as the person’s head bobbed up and down on him.  Then there was a very loud banging noise.

Giles’ eyes flew open and he gasped for breath, frightened out of his dream and annoyed because of it.  It took him a moment to get oriented and realize that the banging noise had repeated itself and that it was, in fact, someone hammering away on his front door.  He grabbed his glasses and his robe and rushed down the stairs, tripping over his own feet on his way down, still disoriented and sleepy.  Finally he made it to the door and yanked it open.  A smoking Spike, hidden under a woolen blanket and carrying a large wooden box, stumbled through the door and in his haste stepped on Giles’ big toe. 

“God damn it, Spike,” Giles exclaimed, hopping backwards. 

Spike groaned.  “Oh, I *really* wish you hadn’t said that,” he replied cryptically, dropping the box with a wince.  Giles blinked the sleep from his eyes and stared at the vampire like he’d lost his mind.  Before he had the chance to demand an explanation, however, the box lid flew open, and there was a poof of reddish smoke, accompanied by the sound of firecrackers that seemed to be going off in all corners of the room. Giles coughed, waving his hands in front of his face. 

When the smoke cleared, a small, leprechaun-like figure stood before him, dressed in blue and gold.  He was squat and short and had a long, thin moustache that he idly twirled with one finger.  “Good evening,” he said formally, in a high-pitched sort of voice.  “I am Yepshir, attendant to the great Goddamnit.  In gratitude for your releasing us, the great Goddamnit will now grant you your fantasy.”  There was another flash of smoke, and then the little man – and the box – disappeared.

Giles stared at the ground where it had been, puzzled.  “What the hell was all that about?” he asked.  Spike didn’t answer, so he looked up.  “Spike?  What’s going on?”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look incredibly sexy with those glasses on?” Spike replied, advancing on him.  “They make me want to throw you down and take you here on the floor.”

“What?” Giles was past annoyed now.  First he had been woken from a rare pleasant dream by Spike, of all people.  Then some weird demon thing had been released in – and disappeared from – his foyer.  Now the only person – vampire - *whatever* that could explain the above two events was instead acting like a total tit.  “What’s the matter with you?” he snapped.

Spike just smiled his infuriating smile.  Giles was pondering what it meant when the vampire pounced on him. “Ack!  Ugh! Spike, you can’t attack humans!  Your chip, remember?” Giles struggled in vain to get the undead creature off of him. 

Spike laughed in his ear.  “Not attacking,” he replied, and then fastened his lips to Giles’ neck, sucking hard but not biting.  It had been ages since Giles had been touched in such a way.  He tried to keep the fact that it was Spike in the forefront of his mind, but his cock seemed to think that it didn’t matter, and came to attention.

For a moment he stood there, stunned, and allowed Spike to continue ravishing his neck, before finally getting his wits about him.  He pushed Spike away.  “What in the hell has possessed you?” he exclaimed.

“It’s your fault,” Spike whined back, collapsing onto the couch and licking his lips.  Giles couldn’t help it; his eyes fastened on that delectable mouth, watching as the tongue flicked in and out, his breath catching when he caught a glimpse of fangs behind the parted lips.  “Giles!”  Spike’s raised voice broke him out of his musing.

“Hmmm?”

“I said it was your fault, for cussing like that when I was about to hand you over the unholy resting place of a vicious demon.”

“What, that thing?”  Giles gestured vaguely at the air where Yepshir had materialized – and disappeared – only moments ago.  “It seemed harmless.” Spike was leaning forwards now, his shirt falling open to reveal his muscular chest.  Giles realized suddenly that the vampire was tracking him, the way a predator tracks its prey.  “Spike,” he said carefully.  “Explain what’s going on.”

“I will,” the blond replied.  “Come sit down.” He smiled again, that dangerous smile.  Giles shivered – but it wasn’t out of fear.  At least fear had never made his cock throb so almost painfully before.   Unsure, he complied.

As soon as he had settled into the easy chair, Spike slid down to his knees.  Giles watched as the vampire reached up for him, slowly pulling open his robe.  Giles’ cock was revealed, hard and glistening.  Spike smiled, then bent down and wrapped his lips around it.

“Oh, god,” Giles breathed.  He looked down at the blond head working on him.  “Oh – god!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet, knocking Spike to the ground.  “It was my dream!”

Spike wiped his lips, grinning.  “You were dreaming about me, watcher?”

“Not you!  Well, not specifically.  It could have been anyone.” Giles pulled his robe tightly shut and began pacing around the room.  “That’s what that little leprechaun meant about my fantasies.  It made my dream come true – literally.”

Spike climbed to his feet and advanced on the other man.  “Not yet, it hasn’t.  Besides, it wasn’t the little one.  It was the big one.  Goddamnit.”

“What big one?  And there’s no need to swear.”  Giles backed up a couple of paces.  “What on earth did you bring into my house?”

“Hey, don’t take that tone with me!  I was bringing it to you for safekeeping.  You’re the one that released that monster.  And it’s *name* is Goddamnit.  Do try to keep up, Watcher.”  Spike was pouting now, arms crossed.

Giles shook his head, trying to understand.  “Alright, okay.  I didn’t see anything but the leprechaun creature.  But you’re saying there was another, and that he’s cast a spell on you – on us – that involves you carrying out my fantasy, because I happened to be dreaming of a blond before you woke me.”

“A blond?”

“Spike!  Stay on topic here.  This is important!  We’ve been cursed by a demon!  We have to figure out what to do.”

“I can think of a thing or two.”  Spike was grinning again.  He took a few more steps towards Giles, who backed away again.  They continued the dance until Giles was backed up against a wall.  Then Spike slid down Giles’ body – slowly, slowly – parting the robe as he went, until he ended up with his lips wrapped round the head of Giles’ cock once more.

It was difficult to resist.  Although Giles knew it was a terrible thing – a demon curse – he still couldn’t help wanting it.  It felt so good, and it had been so long… and, he had to admit, Spike had a talent for giving blow jobs.  He shuddered as Spike blew on his member before engulfing it again, teasing the slit with his tongue.  “Spike…” Giles meant to word to sound commanding, but it came out in a desperate moan.  He felt Spike smile and keep sucking.  Yes, fine, alright, Giles thought.  So close…  He moaned again.

Just then the door flew open.  “Giles!  Have you seen Spike?  He and Buffy found this box on patrol last night and he was supposed to bring it to you because we think it might contain a demon and holy mother of Christ I wish I hadn’t seen that!” Giles looked up to see Xander covering his eyes and turning away.  Of course, Willow was there too, with Tara in tow.  Tara was politely examining one of Giles’ paintings, but the redhead was openly staring at them.

“Uh, Giles.  You have, uh, Spike, on your…um…”  She stuttered. 

Giles flushed, pushing the vampire away and quickly closing his robe.  “Excuse me,” he muttered, “Let me just get some clothes.  Tara, be a love and put the kettle on, would you?”  He fled upstairs.

Once there, he collapsed on his bed, heart pounding.  Even despite the interruption and the embarrassment of the children seeing him like this, Giles’ cock was still swollen and ready.  He closed his eyes, trying to put himself in order, but in his mind’s eye he could see Spike on his knees before him, blending with the image from his dream.  Sighing, Giles reached for a pair of sweat pants and pulled them on.  Down below, he could hear Spike’s voice, explaining how he’d inadvertently released the demon, and how it had put the whammy on Spike because Giles had been dreaming about someone blond.

“What do you mean ‘someone blond’?” Xander’s voice wafted up.

“Oh, god,” That was Willow.  “You don’t think, I mean – he wasn’t dreaming about Buffy, was he?”

“Who wasn’t dreaming about me?”  Giles flushed at the sound of that voice, letting his head drop into his hands.  Buffy.  She was supposed to stop by with some Christmas decorations on her way to the college this morning, as they’d all decided to celebrate the event together at Giles’ house this year and the holidays were only a few weeks away.  He could hear the rabble of excited and upset voices as the rest of the gang rushed to fill her in. 

“Oh my god – you don’t think, I mean – eww.  No way.  There’s no way.”  Buffy’s voice rose to a shriek before simmering back down.  Things got quieter after that.  A few minutes later there was a knock at his bedroom door.  “Giles?  Are you – okay?”  The damnable girl had come up to check on him.

“I’m fine,” he called back, wincing at the waver in his voice.  He hoped she understood that this meant go away.  Apparently she didn’t.

“Good,” she replied, opening the door.   Reluctantly, he raised his eyes to meet hers, flushing.  Buffy blushed too, looking at her shoes.  “Giles,” she began, wringing her hands together the way she did when she was really nervous.

“Buffy, I assure you.  It – it wasn’t you.  Not in the least bit you.”

“Oh thank god.” The relief in her voice was tangible.  Finally, she looked up, still a little uncertain.  “Was it – was it Spike?”

Giles sighed again.  “It wasn’t anyone.  It was just a dream.  Just images.”

“Oh.  Well don’t worry about it, okay?  Willow’s already in high gear research mode.  We’ll figure out what this - ”

“Goddamnit.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s it’s name.”  Giles waved at her wearily to continue.

“Oh, right.  Well, we’ll figure out how to reverse it.  Meanwhile, why don’t you just come back downstairs and have a cup of tea, okay?”  Giles didn’t answer.  “Giles?”

“But, Spike…”  He couldn’t even finish the sentence.  Buffy bit back a smile – she’d been informed in precise detail about the situation the others had walked in on.

“I can handle Spike,” she promised.  “Just come down.”

Giles didn’t know how she managed to do it, but Buffy always convinced him to do things he didn’t think were wise.  Thus, he wasn’t surprised to find his feet obeying her, quite despite his mind.  Downstairs, Xander was busying himself unpacking the decorations Buffy had brought with her and Willow had her nose in some book, while Tara stood in the kitchen, gathering things for tea.  Spike was still sitting on the couch, looking far less smug now that the children were around.  His arms were folded defensively, and he had his best ‘big-bad, go away now’ face on.  Giles smiled slightly; the way the man kept up this pretense of toughness to cover the fact that he earnestly wanted to do good – it was endearing.

“Gah!  No, it’s not, not in the least!” he cried out loud, causing Buffy to spin around on the stairs and eye him like he might be losing his mind.  He waved her away.  “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

She nodded, as if in understanding, and turned back to the gang below.  “Spike, take a walk,” she commanded.

“I can’t,” he replied petulantly.

Buffy huffed out an impatient breath.  “Don’t give me excuses, Spike, I’ve seen you get halfway across town in the daylight.  There are lots of shadowy dark places and sewers and whatever, so get lost.”

“I can’t.” This time, Spike’s answer came from between gritted teeth, his own anger plain on his face.

“He really can’t, Buffy,” Willow interjected.  “He tried, while you were upstairs.  Some weird magic force field thing threw him right across the room.” 

Giles followed her gaze to the bottom of the staircase, where the remnants of one of his favorite lamps lay in pieces on the floor.  “Oh, my lamp,” he lamented.

“Yeah, and my damn head,” Spike replied.  Giles looked at him incredulously and opened his mouth to reply.  He could see the whole gang tense up almost imperceptibly, waiting for the big fight.  Then Tara strode determinedly into the living room, carrying a tray laden with china.

“Tea’s ready,” she called in a cheery voice.  She smiled sweetly, somehow nevertheless conveying the fact that they were all to sit down like reasonable people and drink the tea Giles had requested – and that this was an order.  Giles sighed and did as he hadn’t actually been told.  They drank in silence for a moment, Buffy and Tara trading embarrassed smiles, Xander humming Jingle Bells while he untangled lights, and Willow still with her nose in a book.  Spike and Giles looked pointedly away from each other, but it didn’t really matter.  Giles was hyper aware of his presence – he could feel the energy emanating from the vampire, dark and seductive.  No matter which way he turned his head, he could feel Spike’s eyes watching him, though every time he looked up the other man was staring straight at the floor.  The connection was so sharp Giles was convinced it was visible, as though everyone could see a line of lust and need running from him straight into Spike’s delectable washboard abs.  He sighed, clinking his teacup against its saucer as he set it down.

“Oh!  I found it!  Goddamnit,” Willow suddenly exclaimed.

“Willow! Such language,” Xander chided.

“It’s okay,” Buffy replied in that smug voice she used when she actually knew something. “That’s the demon’s name.”

“Interesting choice…”  Xander shrugged and returned to the lights.

“Guys, listen.  The Great Goddamnit is released when his name is called in the presence of the sacred vessel – that would be the big, wooden box, I’m guessing.  He cannot appear on this plane of existence, and so his servant, Yepshir, appears in his stead to grant the invocator his or her fantasy…”

“Yes, yes, we all know that part,” Giles interrupted the spill of crude youthful comments he saw threatening to fall out of Xander’s mouth by hurrying Willow along.   Spike smirked; Giles found himself once again staring at those lips, remember how they felt around him, sucking and pulling…He cleared his throat, whipping off his glasses to hide his embarrassment. 

“Right.  Well, the good news is that the great Goddamnit cannot remain free indefinitely.  He can be put back into his box.”  Willow hesitated, looking up at Giles uncertainly.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“Uh, well, the bad news is that the, uh, fantasy, it has to be, um, completed.”

“What?” Spike’s voice broke the stunned silence that fell as the redhead finished speaking.  “No way am I doin’ that,” he continued. 

“What’s wrong with ‘that’?” Giles argued back, feeling hot.  “I didn’t hear you complaining a few minutes ago.”

“That’s because some spell had me lips wrapped round your - ”

“Spike!” Buffy’s voice thundered over the two men.  “That’s enough. Stop it, both of you.  Willow, is there any other way to break the spell?”

The redhead shrugged.  “Not according to the book,” she replied.  “That’s the only way.”

There was a long silence after that.  Xander choked on the song he’d been humming, and Tara’s eyes got wide as saucers.  Finally, Buffy cleared her throat.  “Willow, are you sure?”  She asked, taking command in her best Slayer style.

“Uh-huh.  100% positive,” Willow replied.  “I’ve crosschecked and re-crosschecked it, and there is definitely no other way to recapture the demon.”

“Well, what happens if we just… don’t?” Spike asked, his arms cross so tightly across his chest that he might have been hugging himself.  Giles looked up at him and realized that the other man looked vulnerable – even scared.  He clenched his fists to prevent himself from trying to reach out to offer Spike comfort, and instead tried to focus on what the vampire was saying.  “I mean, what’s one more sodding demon in this town?”

“Well, the thing is…” Willow’s voice got kind of squeaky, like she was afraid.  “The thing is, if you don’t fulfill the fantasy, you, um… well - ” she trailed off.

“Please, Willow, just – just spit it out,” Giles implored.

“You’ll die.  Both of you.  Horribly and painfully.”

Spike smirked, standing up.  “Right.  Horrible and painful death it is then.”  He strode purposefully towards the door and made as if to open it up.  Immediately, a blue flash lit up the room and Spike was sent stumbling back, although less violently than the first time.

Buffy stood up and strode to him.  “Sit down, Spike,” she commanded.

“No bleeding way!  I don’t care if it takes me all day, I’m getting through this door.  If I’m going to die a horrible and painful death, then I’m doing it on my own.”

“You’re not going to die,” Buffy replied.  “You’re not going to die because you’re going to do whatever it is you have to do to get rid of this curse.  And you are going to do that because I don’t want my Watcher to die.”

“Why should  I care?”  Spike challenged.  “I mean, what’re you going to do, stake me before I can die horribly and painfully?  Sounds like kind of a deal, actually.”

Buffy grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the room, ignoring his protests as she pulled him into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.  They talked in low, angry voices.  Giles tried to understand what they were saying, but they just weren’t clear enough.  He glanced around at the others, who were obviously doing the same thing.   A few minutes later, Buffy re-emerged, her face flushed and her eyes flashing.  “Okay, guys, let’s get out of here,” she ordered.  Willow, Tara, and Xander jumped to, and the four of them marched out the door to a chorus of “Bye, Giles, good luck”.   Spike remained ensconced in the bathroom.

Giles got up and locked the door behind them.  He turned, and absentmindedly tidied up the tea things.  He moved the string of lights out of the way.  He closed the curtains.  Spike did not reappear.  Finally, Giles walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door gently.  “Spike?” he called.  There was no response. “Listen, I understand this is difficult, but we – please come out.”  Still there was no answer.  “Alright, then – I’m coming in.”  Giles opened the door and entered, trying to move slowly.  Spike was sitting on the counter with his back pressed against the wall, still hugging himself.   “Spike?” Giles repeated, reaching out tentatively.   The vampire recoiled from his touch, and Giles quickly withdrew his hand.  He tried again.  “Spike, I don’t understand.  Earlier, you seemed, well, enthusiastic.”

Spike took a deep breath and answered, “Yeah, well, I was.  And then the sodding Scooby gang came along, didn’t they?  And wrecked it all.  Made it real.”

“Made it real?”  Giles tried reaching out again, and was relieved when Spike allowed the contact. 

Spike cleared his throat, looking away.  “I knew it was a spell,” he replied.  “I mean, how could it not be?  One minute I’m thinking, uh-oh, he’s gone and let the bad thing out.  The next minute, I’m thinking about how much I want to suck your cock.  But when it was just you and me  - I thought what the hell, you know?  A quick roll in the hay with the ol’ Watcher, and who’ll ever know?  And now – now they all know.  They know what we were doing, and they know what we’re going to do, and… I don’t think I can bear it, Watcher.”

Giles laid his other hand on Spike’s knee.  “You feel ashamed?”  He questioned softly.

“Don’t you?” Spike’s voice was laden with emotion.

“Very much.  It was my fantasy, after all.” Spike acknowledged the point silently, so Giles pushed on.  “Spike – you have nothing to feel ashamed about.  You are under a spell.  I know that it’s hard to feel out of control, but this is not your fault.  It’s mine.”

Spike shook his head.  “Nah, it’s not.  You can’t help dreaming.  It’s not like we have a choice about our dreams.”  He smiled, a shaky smile but a genuine one.  “So… what now?”

Giles shrugged.  “Well, let’s just start by getting out of the bathroom, shall we?  We can watch some television; I think Passions is on in a few minutes.”  Spike nodded, hopping down from the counter.  Giles laid a hand on the vampire’s shoulder, escorting him out the door.  They sat down on the couch, side by side, thighs pressed against each other’s, and Giles turned the TV on.

Fifteen minutes into the show, he felt Spike relax at his side.  Twenty one minutes in, and Spike’s arm snaked around Giles’ shoulders, settling like a comforting weight, his thin hand caressing Giles’ arm.  When the soap opera had been on for thirty five minutes, Giles laid his hand on Spike’s thigh, letting it rest dangerously high.  At forty seven minutes, Giles leaned his head against Spike’s chest, marveling at the lack of heartbeat.  They missed the last three scenes when Spike suddenly looked down and opened his mouth.  Giles met him halfway in a searing kiss.

The television was forgotten after that, as Giles reached up and entwined his hands in Spike’s short locks, keeping his head still as he ravished the vampire’s mouth.  He fell back finally, gasping for air, and watched Spike smirking at him, marveling at his perfect skin and the brightness of his eyes.  Then the scarred eyebrow rose, and Spike slid off the floor and onto his knees.

This time, Giles was the one pulling clothes away, madly scrambling to get out of his sweatpants as Spike trailed kisses down his belly.  When the vampire reached his cock and lowered his mouth to it, it was sheer brilliance.  Giles gasped and bucked up.  Spike suckled gently, then scraped his teeth over the sensitive head, causing Giles to cry out.  “Again,” he hissed, and Spike complied.  Giles felt his balls tense up. 

He gently detached Spike from him and slid down to join him on the floor, quickly divesting the vampire of his clothes.  “Both of us,” he whispered.  “In my fantasy, we both get off.”  This wasn’t entirely true, but he figured that as long as it was his fantasy that had caused the spell, it was his prerogative to determine how it was amended.  He laid himself across Spike’s cool body, grasping both cocks in his hand and pumping slowly, while Spike arched up to capture Giles’ mouth once more. 

Suddenly, Spike growled, and with a dangerous smile, rolled them over so that he was on top.  “Will you let me, Watcher?” he asked, one hand sliding down Giles’ stomach, past his balls, coming to rest so that his fingers pressed against his hole.  Giles looked up at the vampire and nodded. 

“We need lubricant,” he replied, “If you hurt me, well, your chip…”

“Oh yeah, right.”  Spike stood, looking around the room as if inspiration would suddenly strike.  Apparently it did.  “Glitter gel,” he said happily, picking a tube out of a shopping bag that Buffy had brought.  “For writing on windows.  It’s water soluble.”  Giles raised an eyebrow, but shrugged his acquiescence.  Spike smiled back and resumed his ministrations, caressing Giles and kissing him, while with one hand he worked the lid off the gel and squirted it all over his fingers.  Giles gasped as he felt the first finger enter him, slowly pushing until his opening gave way under the pressure to let the digit in.

“God, yes, more,” he panted.  Spike obliged with another finger, stretching him wide and teasingly stroking inside, his other hand sliding down to cup the Watcher’s balls.  Giles grasped at the discarded tube and spilled its contents onto his hands, which he used to grease Spike’s cock.  “In me, now,” he ordered.

“Yes,” Spike agreed, entering Giles in one thrust.  They gasped and moaned together, lips mashing in a raging kiss as Spike began to move. 

Neither man lasted long.  With Spike’s long fingers stroking him, Giles felt his climax building, and he clenched his ass around Spike’s cock.  Spike moaned at this and shuddered, spilling his seed into the Watcher’s channel with one last sharp thrust, bashing against Giles’ prostate gland.  That last touch was all that was needed, and Giles came all over the vampire’s hand.  Spike collapsed against him, hot with sweat.  Giles’ heart was pounding.

After a few minutes, Spike eased out, and the both winced at the loss of contact.  The vampire made to back away but Giles caught his arm, pulling him back down so that Spike was cradled against the other man’s chest.  “Stay,” he requested.  “Just – just for a moment.”

“Alright,” Spike replied, settling back down.  Giles reached above their heads and dragged a quilt of the arm of the nearby easy chair, covering them both.  They lay together and drifted.

After a few minutes, Giles felt as though something was draining away from him.  He looked up to see a pale swirl of light whirling away from his chest, and a similar one coming out of Spike.  The vampire was also watching it go.  It coalesced at the edge of the couch, slowly taking form.  Then the glow began to die out and the new shape revealed itself: a large wooden box.  “Well,” said Spike, “I guess that’s it, then.”

“I guess so,” Giles responded, feeling oddly hollow.  Spike lifted himself off the Watcher’s chest and Giles watched him go, feeling strangely sad, but there was no longer the passionate attachment or attraction he had earlier felt.  Spike met his gaze, and Giles saw the realization reflected in Spike’s blue eyes.

“Guess I better be off, then.  Really don’t want to be here when the Scoobies come back.”  Spike retrieved his clothes and dressed quickly, striding toward the door.  He hesitated for a moment, and then yanked it open and disappeared into the fading light of early evening, running through a patch of sunlight into a shadow across the way, and disappearing without looking back.  Giles lay on the floor, listening to the receding footsteps.  When he couldn’t hear them anymore, he sat up, reaching for his pants.  Tears threatened inexplicably in the corners of his eyes, and he dashed them away.  He got up and closed the door, then folded the blanket and returned it to its resting place on the chair.  He picked up the tray of tea things and returned it to the kitchen.  He turned the television off.  The house was disconcertingly silent.  He hoped the children would return soon.  Giles picked up the box and stowed it safely under the stairs and then collapsed on the couch and allowed himself to cry.

 ***

The days passed quickly after that.  Some new evil thing had appeared to bring about the end of the world – “Just in time for Christmas,” Xander noted, and they had all been incredibly busy trying to stop it.  Giles had of course seen Spike, but they had never been alone, and they had always been working.  There had never been time to talk, even if he’d known what he was going to say.  Once or twice he caught Spike staring at him and thought he saw the same loneliness and strange sadness that he felt mirrored on the vampire’s face, but every time he looked closer, the feeling was gone, replaced by Spike’s usual smirk.

Defeating the new evil thing was hard work.  Giles and Willow had to combine forces, Willow drawing Giles’ energy, in order to create a magic force field that kept the thing frozen long enough for Spike and Buffy to kill it.  Well, really, Buffy killed it.  Spike got thrown across the street and into a garbage bin, where he lay unconscious for the rest of the fight.  When the deed was over, Buffy retrieved him and he got to his feet unsteadily.  “We did it,” Buffy informed him, and he nodded. 

“Happy Christmas,” he replied, and strode away.  No one even really noticed his departure, except Giles.  Again, he felt that unusual sadness – it was Christmas eve, and now that the bad thing was dead, they were all going over to Giles’ for dinner.  He’d half hoped that Spike would tag along – but he couldn’t very well call out, with all the children around, so he merely watched Spike disappear into the night, wishing he could figure out a discreet way of inviting him over.

Dinner was a joyous affair, full of laughter, good food, and recounted battle tales to amuse each other.  Joyce had come as well, and even she got into it, telling the story of how her first introduction to Spike had been when she hit him over the head with an axe.  After dinner there were presents, and the house resounded with laughter and thank-you’s as person after person tore into their gifts.  After presents, there was another hour of socializing, and then they all began drifting home, and the house was silent once more.  Giles found himself once again wandering around his living room, tidying up and feeling lonely and empty.  Then he happened to glance over at the stairs.  The box was gone.

Giles’ eyes widened; it had been there at the beginning of the night – he was sure of it.  He’d considered using it as a coffee table to accommodate the plates of cookies Joyce had brought, and rejected the idea on account of the fact that if someone bumped it and swore, things could get messy.  No one else had been in the house but them – how could it have disappeared?  He was just reaching the phone to call Buffy when he heard a noise upstairs.

Giles leaned over the easy chair and picked up a battle axe he kept stashed beside it just in case.  Slowly and quietly, he made his way up the stairs, creeping down the hall.  There was another noise, like a shoe hitting the floor.  It was coming from his bedroom.  Carefully, Giles made his way up to the door, easing it open. 

Spike was sitting on the bed, buck naked, his clothes scattered across the floor.  Beside him sat the wooden box.  He smiled widely when Giles walked in and picked the box up, heaving it to the ground.  It landed with a dull thud.  Then Spike said, quite distinctly, “Oh, Goddamnit.”

There was a poof of reddish smoke, accompanied by the sound of firecrackers.  Giles grinned.

 

 


End file.
